X
HOSKINS'S GHOST
The wreck in the rocky hills west of the Elbow Canyon railroad yardproved to be less calamitous than Bessinger's report, handed on from theexcited alarm brought in by a demoralized train flagman, had picturedit. When Ballard and Bromley, hastening to the rescue on Fitzpatrick'srelief train, reached the scene of the accident, they found Hoskins'sengine and fifteen cars in the ditch, and the second flagman with abroken arm; but Hoskins himself was unhurt, as were the remainingmembers of the train crew.
Turning the work of track clearing over to Bromley and the relief crew,Ballard began at once to pry irritably into causes; irritably sincewrecks meant delays, and President Pelham's letters were alreadycracking the whip for greater expedition.
It was a singular derailment, and at first none of the trainmen seemedto be able to account for it. The point of disaster was on a sharp curvewhere the narrow-gauge track bent like a strained bow around one of therocky hills. As the debris lay, the train seemed to have broken in twoon the knuckle of the curve, and here the singularity was emphasised.The overturned cars were not merely derailed; they were locked andcrushed together, and heaped up and strewn abroad, in a fashion toindicate a collision rather than a simple jumping of the track.
Ballard used Galliford, the train conductor, for the first heel of hispry.
"I guess you and Hoskins both need about thirty days," was the way heopened upon Galliford. "How long had your train been broken in twobefore the two sections came in collision?"
"If we was broke in two, nobody knew it. I was in the caboose 'lookout'myself, and I saw the Two's gauge-light track around the curve. Next Iknew, I was smashin' the glass in the 'lookout' with my head, and thetrain was chasin' out on the prairie. I'll take the thirty days, allright, and I won't sue the company for the cuts on my head. But I'll bedanged if I'll take the blame, Mr. Ballard." The conductor spoke as aman.
"Somebody's got to take it," snapped the chief. "If you didn't break intwo, what did happen?"
"Now you've got me guessing, and I hain't got any more guesses left. Atfirst I thought Hoskins had hit something 'round on the far side o' thecurve. That's what it felt like. Then, for a second or two, I could havesworn he had the Two in the reverse, backing his end of the train upagainst my end and out into the sage-brush."
"What does Hoskins say? Where is he?" demanded Ballard; and togetherthey picked their way around to the other end of the wreck, looking forthe engineman.
Hoskins, however, was not to be found. Fitzpatrick had seen him gropingabout in the cab of his overturned engine; and Bromley, when the inquiryreached him, explained that he had sent Hoskins up to camp on a hand-carwhich was going back for tools.
"He was pretty badly shaken up, and I told him he'd better hunt the bunkshanty and rest his nerves awhile. We didn't need him," said theassistant, accounting for the engine-man's disappearance.
Ballard let the investigation rest for the moment, but later, whenBromley was working the contractor's gang on the track obstructionsfarther along, he lighted a flare torch at the fire some of the men hadmade out of the wreck kindling wood, and began a critical examination ofthe derailed and debris-covered locomotive.
It was a Baldwin ten-wheel type, with the boiler extending rather morethan half-way through the cab, and since it had rolled over on theright-hand side, the controlling levers were under the crushed wreckageof the cab. None the less, Ballard saw what he was looking for;afterward making assurance doubly sure by prying at the engine'sbrake-shoes and thrusting the pinch-bar of inquiry into variousmechanisms under the trucks and driving-wheels.
It was an hour past midnight when Bromley reported the track clear, andasked if the volunteer wrecking crew should go on and try to pick up thecripples.
"Not to-night," was Ballard's decision. "We'll get Williams and histrack-layers in from the front to-morrow and let them tackle it.Williams used to be Upham's wrecking boss over on the D. & U. P. mainline, and he'll make short work of this little pile-up, engine and all."
Accordingly, the whistle of the relief train's engine was blown torecall Fitzpatrick's men, and a little later the string of flats,men-laden, trailed away among the up-river hills, leaving the scene ofthe disaster with only the dull red glow of the workmen's night fire toilluminate it.
When the rumble of the receding relief train was no longer audible, thefigure of a man, dimly outlined in the dusky glow of the fire,materialised out of the shadows of the nearest arroyo. First making surethat no watchman had been left to guard the point of hazard, the mangroped purposefully under the fallen locomotive and drew forth a stoutsteel bar which had evidently been hidden for this later finding. Withthis bar for a lever, the lone wrecker fell fiercely at work under thebroken cab, prying and heaving until the sweat started in great dropsunder the visor of his workman's cap and ran down to make rivulets ofgray in the grime on his face.
Whatever he was trying to do seemed difficult of accomplishment, if notimpossible. Again and again he strove at his task, pausing now and thento take breath or to rub his moist hands in the dry sand for the bettergripping of the smooth steel. Finally--it was when the embers of thefire on the hill slope were flickering to their extinction--the barslipped and let him down heavily. The fall must have partly stunned him,since it was some little time before he staggered to his feet, flung thebar into the wreck with a morose oath, and limped away up the tracktoward the headquarters camp, turning once and again to shake his fistat the capsized locomotive in the ditch at the curve.
It was in the afternoon of the day following the wreck that Ballard madethe laboratory test for blame; the office room in the adobe shackserving as the "sweat-box."
First came the flagmen, one at a time, their stories agreeing wellenough, and both corroborating Galliford's account. Next came Hoskins'sfireman, a green boy from the Alta Vista mines, who had been making hisfirst trip over the road. He knew nothing save that he had looked upbetween shovelfuls to see Hoskins fighting with his levers, and hadjudged the time to be ripe for the life-saving jump.
Last of all came Hoskins, hanging his head and looking as if he had beencaught stealing sheep.
"Tell it straight," was Ballard's curt caution; and the enginemanstumbled through a recital in which haziness and inconsistency struggledfor first place. He had seen something on the track or he thought hehad, and had tried to stop. Before he could bring the train undercontrol he had heard the crashing of the wreck in the rear. He admittedthat he had jumped while the engine was still in motion.
"Which way was she running when you jumped, John?--forward or backward?"asked Ballard, quietly.
Bromley, who was making pencil notes of the evidence, looked up quicklyand saw the big engine-man's jaw drop.
"How could she be runnin' any way but forrards?" he returned, sullenly.
Ballard was smoking, and he shifted his cigar to say: "I didn't know."Then, with sudden heat:
"But I mean to know, Hoskins; I mean to go quite to the bottom of this,here and now! You've been garbling the facts; purposely, or because youare still too badly rattled to know what you are talking about. I cantell you what you did: for some reason you made an emergency stop; you_did_ make it, either with the brakes or without them. Then you put yourengine in the reverse motion and _backed_; you were backing when youjumped, and the engine was still backing when it left the rails."
Hoskins put his shoulders against the wall and passed from sullenness todeep dejection. "I've got a wife and two kids back in Alta Vista, andI'm all in," he said. "What is there about it that you don't know, Mr.Ballard?"
"There are two or three other things that I do know, and one that Idon't. You didn't come up to the camp on the hand-car last night; andafter we left the wreck, somebody dug around in the Two's cab trying tofix things so that they would look a little better for John Hoskins. Somuch I found out this morning. But I don't care particularly about that:what I want to know is the first cause. What made you lose your head?"
"I told you; t
here was something on the track."
"What was it?"
"It was--well, it was what once was a man."
Ballard bit hard on his cigar, and all the phrases presenting themselveswere profane. But a glance from Bromley enabled him to say, with decentself-control: "Go on; tell us about it."
"There ain't much to tell, and I reckon you won't believe a thing 'at Isay," Hoskins began monotonously. "Did you or Mr. Bromley notice whatbend o' the river that curve is at?"
Ballard said "No," and Bromley shook his head. The engineman went on.
"It's where _he_ fell in and got drownded--Mr. Braithwaite, I mean. Ireckon it sounds mighty foolish to you-all, sittin' here in the good olddaylight, with nothin' happening: but I _saw_ him. When the Two'sheadlight jerked around the curve and picked him up, he was standingbetween the rails, sideways, and lookin' off toward the river. He hadthe same little old two-peaked cap on that he always wore, and he hadhis fishin'-rod over his shoulder. I didn't have three car lengths tothe good when I saw him; and--and--well, I reckon I went plumb crazy."Hoskins was a large man and muscular rather than fat; but he wassweating again, and could not hold his hands still.
Ballard got up and walked to the window which looked out upon the stoneyard. When he turned again it was to ask Hoskins, quite mildly, if hebelieved in ghosts.
"I never allowed to, before this, Mr. Ballard."
"Yet you have often thought of Braithwaite's drowning, when you havebeen rounding that particular curve? I remember you pointed out theplace to me."
Hoskins nodded. "I reckon I never have run by there since withoutthinking of it."
Ballard sat down again and tilted his chair to the reflective angle.
"One more question, John, and then you may go. You had a two-hourlay-over in Alta Vista yesterday while the D. & U. P. people weretransferring your freight. How many drinks did you take in those twohours?"
"Before God, Mr. Ballard, I never touched a drop! I don't say I'm toogood to do it: I ain't. But any man that'd go crookin' his elbow when hehad that mountain run ahead of him would be _all_ fool!"
"That's so," said Ballard. And then: "That will do. Go and turn in againand sleep the clock around. I'll tell you what is going to happen to youwhen you're better fit to hear it."
"Well?" queried Bromley, when Hoskins was gone.
"Say your say, and then I'll say mine," was Ballard's rejoinder.
"I should call it a pretty harsh joke on Hoskins, played by somebodywith more spite than common sense. There has been some little ill bloodbetween Fitzpatrick's men and the railroad gangs; more particularlybetween the stone-cutters here at the dam and the train crews. It grewout of Fitzpatrick's order putting his men on the water-wagon. When thecamp canteen was closed, the stone 'buckies' tried to open up a jug-linefrom Alta Vista. The trainmen wouldn't stand for it against Macpherson'spromise to fire the first 'boot-legger' he caught."
"And you think one of the stone-cutters went down from the camp to giveHoskins a jolt?"
"That is my guess."
Ballard laughed.
"Mine isn't quite as practical, I'll admit; but I believe it is theright one. I've been probing Hoskins's record quietly, and his long suitis superstition. Half the 'hoodoo' talk of the camp can be traced backto him if you'll take the trouble. He confessed just now that he neverpassed that point in the road without thinking of Braithwaite and histaking-off. From that to seeing things isn't a very long step."
Bromley made the sign of acquiescence.
"I'd rather accept your hypothesis than mine, Breckenridge. I'd hate tobelieve that we have the other kind of a fool on the job; a man whowould deliberately make scare medicine to add to that which is alreadymade. What will you do with Hoskins?"
"Let him work in the repair shop for a while, till he gets the fever outof his blood. I don't want to discharge him."
"Good. Now that is settled, will you take a little walk with me? I wantto show you something."
Ballard found his pipe and filled it, and they went out together. It wasa perfect summer afternoon, still and cloudless, and with the peculiarhigh-mountain resonance in the air that made the clink of the stonehammers ring like a musical chorus beaten out upon steel anvils.Peaceful, orderly industry struck the key-note, and for the moment therewere no discords. Out on the great ramparts of the dam the masons wereswinging block after block of the face wall into place, and the _burr-r_and cog-chatter of the huge derrick hoisting gear were incessant. Backof the masonry the concrete mixers poured their viscous charges into theforms, and the puddlers walked back and forth on their stagings, tampingthe plastic material into the network of metal bars binding the masswith the added strength of steel.
Bromley led the way through the stone-yard activities and around thequarry hill to the path notched in the steep slope of the canyon side.The second turn brought them to the gap made by the land-slide. It was acurious breach, abrupt and clean-cut; its shape and depth suggesting theeffect of a mighty hammer blow scoring its groove from the path level tothe river's edge. The material was a compact yellow shale, showing nosigns of disintegration elsewhere.
"What's your notion, Loudon?" said Ballard, when they were standing onthe edge of the newly made gash.
Bromley wagged his head doubtfully.
"I'm not so sure of it now as I thought I was when I came up here thismorning. Do you see that black streak out there on the shale, just aboutat the path level? A few hours ago I could have sworn it was a powderburn; the streak left by a burning fuse. It doesn't look so much like itnow, I'll confess."
"You've 'got 'em' about as bad as Hoskins has," laughed Ballard. "Adynamite charge that would account for this would advertise itselfpretty loudly in a live camp five hundred yards away. Besides, it wouldhave had to be drilled before it could be shot, and the drill-holeswould show up--as they don't."
"Yes," was the reply; "I grant you the drill-holes. I guess I have 'got'em,' as you say. But the bang wouldn't count. Quinlan let off half adozen blasts in the quarry at quitting time yesterday, and one jar moreor less just at that time wouldn't have been noticed."
Ballard put his arm across the theorist's shoulders and faced him aboutto front the down-canyon industries.
"You mustn't let this mystery-smoke get into your nostrils, Loudon,boy," he said. "Whatever happens, there must always be two cool headsand two sets of steady nerves on this job--yours and mine. Now let's godown the railroad on the push-car and see how Williams is getting alongwith his pick-up stunt. He ought to have the Two standing on her feet bythis time."
The King of Arcadia Page 10